5) HOW TO AVOID GETTING BEATEN UP

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*Cody Walker's POV

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*Cody Walker's POV

Imagine standing in front of a class and having everyone's eyes on you. Imagine opening your mouth while being afraid of saying something wrong and being judged by your classmates. Imagine trying to stay calm, when you can barely feel your legs and you feel like the room is running out of air.

Sounds like a classic fear of public speaking, a.k.a glossophobia, right? In my case it came with one addition. 

When I said something wrong, I was actually being judged by my classmates. When I was standing in front of a class, everyone was waiting for me to make a mistake. When they looked at me, they were trying to find faults and something to laugh about. 

So you bet I was terrified. I avoided talking in front of the class by any means, but after what Ian said, I really didn't have much choice. I wasn't going to give him the pleasure of seeing me fail. 

I managed the presentation better than I had thought I would, minus the moment of uncertainty, and they didn't even laugh that much. So it was all good before Ian decided to come to talk to me.

Just let it go already? Ancient history? A stupid nickname and a laugh here and there? 

I mean.. is this guy for real? Maybe some of us could afford to leave it in ancient history, but some of us had to pay the price.

Who was he to tell me I was making a big deal of something if he clearly had no idea how bad it was? How bad he had made it for me?

"God, you're even stupider than you look." I told Ian, turned my back to him and bumped into Bryce Fletcher. Bad mistake. I was so beside myself I didn't even remember to say sorry, which was a bad, bad mistake. 

I knew I should probably start planning for my funeral by now, but all I could think about was Ian Romero and his dumb remarks. That idiot was distracting me, making me careless, which was something I couldn't afford to do.

All the same, I tried my best. I looked at my feet and gripped my tray in the cafeteria, I avoided isolated corners in the hallways and I kept my head down during the classes. It was going perfectly well, until it all came crashing down. Just for one moment I forgot to keep my vigilance in its required level and my fate was sealed.

The last class had ended about five minutes earlier and I was hurrying to the running practices. It would be just an easy run today, which was good since I was shot. My legs were aching after a full week of training and I was just thinking about that, when a hand came from nowhere and shoved me against the wall.

That, my friends, was one of those isolated corners I was supposed to avoid today. It wasn't in the hallways though, but outside the school building in a shadowy corner.

"Did you forget to say something earlier?" The owner of the hand that was pressing me against the wall accosted me in a low voice.

"I'm sorry." I said quickly, even though I knew at this point my sorry was good for nothing. 

My school survival guide has an entire chapter with a headline 'How to avoid getting beaten up', which I can gladly summarise for you. First step is to avoid making them mad and giving them stimulants. The second is to avoid isolated corners and the third one is to run. When you see them enclosing you, just run like there's no tomorrow. 

But if they get you before you can run away, then it's game over. There's no chapter for surviving a beating in my survival guide, since my tactics are purely based on avoidance.

I yelped when a perfectly aimed uppercut landed on my chin. Then I probably already whimpered when another punch thudded on the corner of my eye. I'm really not a fighter and I'm not good at enduring physical pain. Bryce shoved me on the ground next and my elbow scraped against the asphalt concrete. 

"Did you think we would just let you walk away?" Jeremy asked, looking down at me.

I quickly shook my head and closed my eyes, hoping they would already get tired of using me as a punching bag. Because my eyes were closed I didn't realise how Jeremy crouched closer to me, until he gripped my collar and pulled me to sit up.

Jeremy held me up from my shirt with one hand and used the other to hit my mouth until my lips bled and then repeated the ritual with my nose. Then he let go of my collar and I slumped back on the ground. My vision was blurring as I lay there staring at the three figures hovering on top of me.

I was panting: pain in, pain out.

Still, for some reason, all I could think about was: I can't go see my family this weekend. I have to cancel and Cole, my little brother, will be so disappointed when I miss his birthday.

Bryce snatched my backpack from the ground and started inspecting its content while Kaleb kicked my upper body and Jeremy smirked next to him clearly enjoying the show.

It was getting blurrier by the second, until I closed my eyes and tilted my head feeling drowsy and disoriented.

"Did we kill him? Is he breathing? Are we just going to leave him like that?" Someone hushed, sudden urgency in his voice. 

Then I floated away. Away from the throbbing pain and the burning ache all around my body. Away from the suddenly urgent voices.

♡♡♡

Question of the day:
Have you got any tattoos? Would you like to have one?

(Me: I have eight and I'm about to get two more soon. I love tattoos and all of mine have a special meaning behind them, so they're like writing my story on my skin.)

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